


A 3 a.m. Secret

by honeyspeeches



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Insomnia, Love Confessions, M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 15:53:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18101669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyspeeches/pseuds/honeyspeeches
Summary: Lance is losing sleep over the thought of touching Keith. Or Keith touching him.





	A 3 a.m. Secret

The silence of the night seemed to press against Lance’s mind as he stared into the dark. It was 3 in the morning, and he couldn’t stop thinking about a boy. He couldn’t stop thinking about the shape of him, the sound of him, the feel of his presence. They hadn’t known each other for that long, but Lance felt him inside his chest like he belonged there. He felt him even now, in the middle of the night. Especially now. Because he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him.

It was not practical for Lance to think about it _now_. Not when the state of the universe was partially laid in his hands. He was the red paladin now, he had a certain responsibility as the right-hand man of Voltron. This required rest, a level mind and a slow-beating heart.

And yet. Lance still sat there, blanket covering his legs, his thumbs rolling around each other. Because he couldn’t stop thinking about Keith.

It was impractical, really. Keith was Lance’s friend, his leader, his rival.

_We can’t even have a conversation without arguing_ , Lance thought, although he knew in his heart that wasn’t true. They had had conversations. Conversations Lance thinks about at 3 in the morning. Keith had reassured Lance, had calmed him down from his rising panic, had boosted his confidence in himself. Lance felt how he changed with Keith around. He felt himself grow steadier under Keith’s faithful gaze. Keith had always believed in him.

Lance had realized what that meant for him. A while ago. Now Lance thinks it was foolish, but then it was so new and in total contradiction with who he thought he was, he used any excuse to distance himself from Keith. He pretended to forget their moments, poked fun at him, his hairstyle. All Lance wanted now was to see him. He wanted to see Keith. But even if he did, what would he say? He probably wouldn’t say anything. Whatever Lance was feeling towards Keith, it was Lance’s thing. His thing only. So, he kept it to himself, a 3 a.m. secret close to his heart.

He looked at the clock. It was 4 in the morning. Lance realized he probably wouldn’t sleep anytime soon, so he removed the blanket from around him, and he opened his door to step out into the hallway of the castle. All of the paladins don’t have their rooms next to each other, since when they arrived, they pretty much just called dibs on what they thought best. Lance thought it was nice, but as he looked from side to side at the empty, chilly hallway, he started to miss his own room, in his family’s house. There were pictures there, drawings from his niece and nephew, personal belongings, like a guitar he sometimes strummed, or the painting of a lonesome, rainy day, painted by his grandfather. A painting filled with greys. He sort of felt like that painting now.

He glanced once at the door in front of him now, in a different hallway, but familiar from his late-night walks. Keith’s door, only centimeters away — an arm’s length, really it wasn’t that much — but then he turned the other direction, continuing his walk into the kitchen area, where he grabbed a glass of water. It didn’t really help, but then, he didn’t think anything would, at that moment. He looked outside the window to the view of the quiet planet they had landed on. The moons were high in the night, the stars speckled around them. Lance couldn’t help but think about how many of those stars he’d been on. And then how many he’d been on with Keith.

Keith, his steadying factor, his best friend, his bantering rival. Keith who had the universe in his eyes, Keith whose black hair contrasted beautifully against his fair skin. Keith who sometimes looked at him as if Lance was the only one who mattered to him. At least, that’s a self-indulgent 4 a.m. thought he hoped to existence. But he knew. He knew it wasn’t like that. And Lance thought he was fine with it.

_It’s okay_ , Lance thought, _it isn’t meant to be_.

Soft patter is the only sound in the kitchen now. It had begun to rain the acid that fell on this planet, the dark, dark sky turning almost grey-black.

_Yeah_ , Lance thought, then, _rainy and lonesome_.

That’s about how he felt.

****

Lance sat in his bed in another silent night, the castle’s soft hum a soothing comfort that he had grown accustomed to. He had been awake for a few hours, just sitting, just looking. He traced his fingers along his other fingers, then he tracked his thumb across his knuckles. He hoped this would dull the ache in his chest, the wanting feeling he couldn’t swat away, but nothing seemed to work.

Then he traced his knuckles to his jaw, and he raised his head slightly, as his fingers trailed down from below his ear to his collarbone to his chest, and his chest ached so much he could have cried. But Lance didn’t cry. He stopped his hands as they were just above his stomach.

Lance knew what he wanted, what he needed, and it was in the room in the hallway, a distance away, lying in bed, sleeping soundlessly in the night. He removed his blankets, determined, but then hesitated and placed them back, now determined to sleep. If Lance went now, how would it play out? How would he react if Lance came knocking on his door at 3 in the night, begging for—

For what? A hug? Was a hug really worth all of this fuss? Was this really necessary? Could he really expect Keith to understand that he came in while the night carried away, just because he wanted — needed — someone to touch him? Because he wanted _Keith_ to touch him?

Lance shook his head to himself, and laid back down, pulling the covers to his chin. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. It wasn’t appropriate. Keith was the team leader. Besides, Keith had never initiated any — had never looked… and what of the others? What would they think? It would only be selfish of Lance. So, he shook his head one more time, and closed his eyes…

Except then he was removing his blankets forcefully and leaving his room before he realised what he was doing. And by the time he knocked on Keith’s door, the thought of thinking _this was a mistake_ settled itself in Lance’s mind and then just as quickly vanished, because Keith’s door was sliding open.

Keith was not bare chested, as Lance might have imagined — or _hoped_ — but his hair was messy, and his eyes were lazy, and the look on Keith’s face, his eyebrows curving, his lip slightly pouting, had Lance’s heart hammering in his chest so hard, before either of them could utter a word.

At first Keith seemed surprised to see Lance standing there, but that quickly melted into concern, and he looked a little alarmed. “Lance,” he said, and the way he said his name, his voice husky and drowsy from sleep, it knocked Lance’s thoughts into a spin. “What’s wrong?”

Lance stared at Keith’s hand as it reached towards him, almost unconsciously, and Lance looked back at Keith’s face, back into his eyes, and his chest began to ache again. “I just...” Lance started to say, but his tongue felt heavy, and the words stuck in his throat. The castle’s soft light provided a tiny glint in Keith’s eyes, and it almost took Lances breath away. “I don’t know…” He hesitated, biting his lip.

Keith put the reaching hand gently on Lance’s forearm. A bolt of electricity shot up through Lance’s arm, into his chest, up to his head, and it was so relieving, Lance thought he might just get high from Keith’s simple touch. It was as if he was medicating on a drug, which he had been ridding himself of. He was a junkie who was falling off the wagon again. Strangely, that thought made him think of constellations, which made him think of Keith’s eyes.

“I can’t sleep.” Lance looked from Keith’s hand to Keith, expecting to see a little annoyance at Lance for causing such an inconvenience – how obnoxious, all because he couldn’t _sleep_.

But Keith’s eyes looked nothing like that. They were gentle, open, understanding, and he looked at Lance with such attention, Lance was a little startled. His chest, dulled by the shock Keith had given him, started to ache again.

Keith moved his hand to Lance’s, and he inclined his head ever so slightly to his room, where he pulled Lance to. “Come in.”

The door slid shut behind them, Lance’s blood roaring in his ears as Keith pulled him to his bed. Lance tried to still his beating heart, and quieten his thoughts about how the lack of light made Keith’s eyes look as dark as earthen coffee, and Lance could just _drown_ —

The sheets were disturbed, but Lance didn’t mind. Keith sat by his pillows, and Lance sat just in front of him, his fingers twitching for contact he couldn’t force, couldn’t take.

“Are you having nightmares?” Keith asked. He had let go of Lance’s hand to rub his eyes, and he tried stifling a yawn. For Lance. So, he wouldn’t see. Lance’s heart swelled.

“No,” Lance started to say, but then he remembered that the reason why he had come here in the first place was so humiliating, he couldn’t admit that to Keith, so he quickly changed course. “Or, yeah. It— yeah.” He picked at his fingers to keep Keith from seeing them shake.

Keith put his hand through his own hair, and it felt like Lance’s entire body was convulsing towards it, towards him and his pale skin and his dark eyes and his perfect mouth.

Lance forced his gaze down and away.

Keith considered him for a little bit. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently. For a moment it had seemed like Keith was reaching for him again, but instead his hand just settled near their knees, only inches from touching.

Lance shook his head, not trusting his voice. He was keenly aware of their position, Lance cross-legged, body turned fully to Keith, and Keith with one foot under the knee of the other, as the latter hung from the edge. If Lance put a little more weight to his body, their knees would touch.

Keith let out a small breath. There was silence for some time. And then, as if in a dream, almost dazedly but with attention, Keith took both of Lance’s hands in his.

Lance held his breath, afraid. He didn’t know of what, exactly. Maybe Keith was going to gently ask him to leave. Maybe Keith was too tired, this was a mistake.

“Lance,” Keith said, and Lance braced himself. “Look at me.”

It stunned Lance so much, he snapped his eyes right into Keith’s. His eyes held concern but also something else. He looked almost… Lance couldn’t quite find the word.

“You’re okay,” Keith started to say, tracing his thumbs along Lance’s knuckles. He was doing this. He was really doing this. Lance felt almost dizzy. “We’re in the castle. I know the burden is too much, sometimes. But I’m here with you. You’re not doing this alone.” He sounded so sure of himself, Lance almost believed that that was what the ache in his chest was about. Until Keith’s hands traced up Lance’s hands to his forearms to his shoulders and back again, and Lance remembered with a jolt: _No, this is why I came here. Because of this. Because of him_.

And Lance took the risk. He etched forward, circling his arms around Keith’s chest, his chin on Keith’s shoulder.  He just sat there for a while, arms around Keith as he felt such peace within himself. It was as if a hunger was being fed as he slid his eyes shut, and Keith embraced his shoulders. As Lance put his forehead against Keith’s neck, feeling his pulse and his skin, and remembering this is where he wanted to be, this is where he always longed to be, Keith put a hand on the back of Lance’s head, and his fingers went through his hair, combing, calming, and Lance hugged Keith just a little tighter.

“I’m with you. I’m here with you,” Keith murmured, almost absently, as if he didn’t even have to think about it, as if it was just natural of him to comfort Lance this way. He kept murmuring reassurances at Lance for a while.

He could have slept then, in Keith’s arms, content, happy, fulfilled. Keith must have read his mind, because he started falling back towards the pillows, not letting go of Lance as he went and dragged Lance with him. Lance thought Keith might have forgotten he was there, might have fallen back asleep and just passed out from exhaustion, but Keith pulled back the blankets even more to make room for Lance, and he made sure they were both comfortable, before he draped them back over the two of them.

Lance put his head against Keith’s chest. This was not the way friends behaved. “I’m sorry, Keith.” It slipped out of Lance’s mouth before he could stop it, his throat closing up with guilt of disrupting Keith like this, but Keith only shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry. You can sleep here tonight. I’ll try and fight off the nightmares.”

And then suddenly, Lance didn’t care if this was inappropriate, he didn’t care what the others thought, or if this wasn’t the way friends — or rivals — were supposed to behave. He was so comfortable against Keith it felt so right. A small smile played on Lance’s lips before he curled further to Keith, hugging him tighter.

“Thank you,” Lance whispered into the dark, and all Lance got was a hum back, one of Keith’s arms between them under his pillow, and the other bent over his neck to bury in his hair.

Lance listened to Keith’s calm breathing, until sleep took him as well.

***

Keith didn’t mention that night, and neither did Lance. A week had passed, but nothing had changed. Lance wasn’t entirely sure the night had actually happened. Keith acted no different towards Lance. But then again, they hadn’t really had any opportunities to talk. The last few days had been busy with local errands for the inhabitants of planet Uron they had landed on. Lance didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. For now, he had to stop thinking about it.

He felt slightly embarrassed. How could he have just wandered into Keith’s room in the middle of the night, just because he was feeling a little needy. Lance was surprised Keith wasn’t regarding him with a little colder attitude, or even make snide comments. Perhaps he was just going to ignore it, so as not to deter the dynamic and risk something happened to the formation of Voltron.

Lance wasn’t entirely sure Keith even remembered. Keith had appeared half-asleep when Lance had knocked on his door, looking at him, as if in a daze, and murmured things carefully, calmly, as if in a dream. Lance had left his room before Keith woke up. Now that Lance thought about it, there was no evidence that Lance had even been there, except for their memories. But Keith might not even have that.

As Lance put on the gloves of his paladin suit, he decided it was for the best. No awkward atmosphere. No embarrassing talk. Luckily, no one else knew. And that was good enough for Lance. He didn’t think he could handle it, if they found out.

Hunk nudged him in his ribs, glancing at Lance from the corner of his eye. “Hey, man. What’s going on?”

Lance turned his face to him, giving him a small smile and a little shake of the head, “What?”

“Are you even listening?”

_Listening_? It took a moment for Lance to remember what he was supposed to be listening to, exactly. Then it dawned on him that Shiro had been talking about their schedule for the day. It was their last day staying on Uron, and they needed to stock up on supplies for their departure, and Shiro had been giving each of them their task, starting with Keith, when Lance must have zoned out. Okay, maybe he hadn’t been paying attention.

“Yeah,” Lance lied nonchalantly, giving Hunk his best attempt at reassuring him with a smile. “Totally.”

He was keenly aware of Keith glancing between the two of them, but Lance kept his gaze on Pidge in front of him, feigning boredom. The thought of Keith looking at him sent sweats down his spine.

“Allura,” Shiro said, continuing to give errands, “I think it’s best if you go ahead and talk to the Ambassador and settle the last tweaks of agreements for our alliance. Coran, you should get the ship ready for take-off. I would rather leave this planet, quickly. Lance, you’ll go to the pharmacy and stock up on as much med kit as possible. We all meet back here in two vargas.”

Lance gave a curt nod, and then everyone dispersed. Lance walked with Hunk and Pidge, who had been given an errand Lance couldn’t ask about, lest he give away that he wasn’t listening. It was weird, having Shiro back with their team. He had been missing after a fight with Zarkon, which meant Keith had needed to step up as the black paladin. But no one called him that. Keith didn’t even wear the black paladin suit.

Keith didn’t seem to mind that Shiro was giving orders, even though it was technically Keith’s job now. Lance couldn’t help but feel some wrongness about this situation. If Shiro was back now, did that mean he would take the black lion back? Would Keith take red? Who would Lance end up with? Blue seemed fine with Allura, and Lance didn’t want to take that from her, knowing her connection with Voltron. Lance shook his head.

Hunk glanced at him again, then looked to Pidge before he said, “Lance, are you okay, man? You seem out of it.”

Lance felt a flash of surprise travel down his chest. Was he that obvious? An easy smile found its way to his lips, “What? No, I’m good, I’m just thinking if there will be any hot nurse aliens where I’m going.” Lance wiggled his eyebrows, and witnessed Pidge roll her eyes. “Yeah, seems like I got the good mission, huh?”

Hunk snorted. “Right,” he said, like he didn’t really believe him. Lance felt a pang of irritation at himself.

Suddenly, he felt a shocking sensation down his arm all the way into his chest, and he halted to a stop as he whirled to see Keith grab his arm.

“Lance,” Keith said, looking a little too serious for Lance’s taste. “Can I talk to you?”

Lance’s mouth fell dry. Based on the look on Keith’s face, it couldn’t be good. _Oh god, please don’t let this be about that night._

Hunk and Pidge told Lance they’d see him later, and then they walked ahead.

Keith let go of Lance’s arm, and Lance found it was suddenly hard to keep upright with only two legs.

“Sure,” Lance said, laying an arm around Keith shoulder, hopefully nonchalantly, and grinning seamlessly. “You need advice for alien pick-up lines. Fear not. I have expertise in these matters.”

Keith didn’t look amused. Instead, he slowly unwound Lance’s arm around him, and he looked at Lance with concern. “No,” he started, then looked around as if he was trying to find the sentence he wanted hanging in the air. “I wanted to ask… Are you still having nightmares?”

_Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god._

Lance was so stunned, Keith might as well have knocked him into silence. Lance tried gathering himself as quickly as possible. “Oh, N-no, no.” Lance laughed as if that could chase away the horror of humiliation inside him. “I’m fine, Keith. That was a… one time only thing.”

The ground opening up and swallowing him whole was better than this mess. Lance could feel his cheeks burn, and he was ready to turn, run and never come back, but Keith’s hand on his shoulder kept him where he was standing. Keith looked really beautiful in his armour, and Lance was trying not to think about what he looked like without it.

“Are you sure? You’ve been acting a little…” Keith trailed off, looking into Lance’s eyes as if he was searching for something, or as if he was unsure.

Lance gave him an easy smile, one, he was sure, that could swoon hearts. “What?”

Keith seemed to hesitate. Then he shook his head, as Lance sometimes did to knock a thought out of his mind, and he clapped Lance on his shoulder. Lance was shocked his bones didn’t rattle as visibly as he felt them do. “Nothing,” Keith said, and gave him a small smile. “As long as you’re okay.”

Lance’s heart almost burst from those words, and he tried not to get ahead of himself with the thought that Keith might care about him. Yeah, Keith could care about him, the same way he could care about Voltron, but it wasn’t what Lance wanted. Presently, Lance nodded, and assured Keith that he was fine.

Then they parted their ways and ran their errands. Lance couldn’t stop thinking about Keith’s hand on his shoulder. And then he couldn’t stop thinking about Keith’s hand in his hair.

***

The next time Lance had a sleepless night, he didn’t even think about Keith or going to him. How could he, after the last fiasco? How could Lance look into Keith’s eyes and tell him it was because of nightmares, and not because Lance was literally losing sleep to the thought of touching him. No, it wouldn’t do. Lance could never turn to Keith like that again.

So instead, after lying in bed for countless hours, _again_ , without sleep nearing his mind, Lance lifted the blankets from himself, and put on his green jacket. The castle was usually chilly this time of — well, Lance couldn’t even say day. The castle didn’t really have natural cycles like that. Instead the castle was programmed to Earth’s rotation rate, which made the castle essentially rotate at the same pace as Earth — as per the paladins’ request. Pidge helped fix that up. She was a real genius. Lance admired her for that.

Lance made it down the hallways and into the kitchen before he realised it, and he thought, despite the other countless failed attempts, a glass of water might help. But even after the third glass of water, Lance still didn’t feel the pull of sleep, nor the disappearance of the distracting thoughts of Keith in bed, gazing at him, beckoning him to come to him, trailing his calloused fingers along Lance’s jaw—

You get the point.

Lance sighed heavily, exiting the kitchen, and thought how these feelings were coming at a really inconvenient time. How was Lance supposed to be at his prime, forming Voltron and fighting Galra if he couldn’t even go a night without pining over Keith? How was he supposed to accomplish anything? Lance trailed his hand along the wall of the hallway, as he tried to shake the thoughts of Keith out of his mind.

Instead he thought of Blue, and Red and how connected he felt to both of them. The connection with Blue had been almost instantaneous, when he had first sat in the pilot’s seat, feeling the controls under his fingers, the handles clutched tightly in his hands as Blue put ideas in his head. As Pidge, Hunk, Shiro and Keith were yelling out of fear for their life. Lance didn’t understand what had them so worried. Lance was a great pilot.

Then he thought of how Red had felt familiar, yet different — but it was a _good_ different. The kind that usually comes from trying new food or listening to a new song that wasn’t really in your line of genres. Red was swifter than Blue, and maybe a little more insistent with their ideas. Really, Lance understood how Keith and Red had been meant for each other. Not to mention the stubbornness of the both of them, or how Red seemed to read Lance’s mind almost as much as Keith did in a battle, or how Keith seemed to look at him with pride whenever he had his back against a brutal mass of Galra, or how Keith—

Lance groaned, somewhat loudly, and slapped a hand to his forehead in an attempt to knock Keith out of his head. _Stop_ , Lance ordered his brain. _Why?_ He then pleaded. It was no use. His brain kept flitting over memories of Keith, and then not-memories of Keith. Lance clutched his eyes tightly shut.

“Lance?”

Lance snapped open his eyes, searching in the dark for the other person, but Lance already knew who it was. It was safe to say that Lance was obsessed enough to recognise Keith’s voice anywhere at any time.

Keith stood a little down the hallway to the hangars, which Lance had been headed. He wore his usual black t-shirt, but he was in looser pants, looking more relaxed for wear. His hair looked messy, as if he had run his hand through it several times, or he had rubbed his head on his pillow.

Lance’s heart pounded just a little faster, at the sight of a sleepy, drowsy Keith, and suddenly Lance’s heart ached, with every beat, to kiss Keith right then and there.

“What are you doing up?” Keith asked, stepping a little closer, his eyes laced with confusion, then melted and reformed to concern. “Are you having nightmares again?” A hand reached towards him, just like that night, almost in reflex, absentmindedly.

Lance suddenly didn’t know what to say. He had decided that he wouldn’t lie to Keith anymore, but now that he faced him, Lance was filled with such an unforgiving pang of dread that he almost ran in the other direction. “I…” Lance started, not quite deciding. _Lie, lie, lie_ , a voice told him, but another chanting, _tell him, tell him, tell him_.

Keith placed a hand on Lance’s upper arm, almost pinning Lance to the wall behind him, as Lance froze in place. “Then what is it?” Keith asked, and Lance hadn’t realised he had been shaking his head.

“I can’t—I can’t—” Lance said, his voice sounding foreign and far away. He started withdrawing from Keith’s hand, despite his body screaming at him to _kiss him, kiss him, kiss him_. “Keith, you need to stop _touching_ me!” Lance snarled, unintentionally harsh.

Keith snatched his hand back from Lance, as if he had been touching scorching embers, and looked at his hand almost quizzically. Then he looked at Lance, a defence walling up around him as his voice grew impatient, “I was only trying to help—”

Lance shook his head again. _No_ , he thought, _this isn’t right. This isn’t what I wanted_. “It’s not— Jeez, I know, Keith, it’s not you— I—” Lance sputtered, the words seeming so close yet so far away. He felt his cheeks heating up.

“ _Spit it out, Lance_!” Keith snapped.

“It’s not you! It’s me!” Lance cried, his voice coming out louder than he intended, but suddenly he didn’t care. “You can’t touch me, without me wanting to fucking _hold_ —” He raised his eyes to meet Keith’s whose black-purple eyes stared in wide shock. Lance took a deep breath and thought for a moment about confessing. But then he lost the courage. “I just… miss home.”

His hands found their way to his arms as Lance held himself in the dark. He couldn’t look at Keith. He probably thought he was pathetic.

The silence that followed after was unbearable. Lance couldn’t tell what Keith was thinking. He could hardly look at him. No one said anything for a while. Then Lance heard shuffling.

Keith was stepping towards him, his face carefully blank. Lance held his breath as Keith reached out and snaked his arms around Lance waist, holding him close against his chest.

At first, Lance didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t at all what he expected Keith to do, let alone with _Lance_. But then he thought back to how Keith had comforted Lance without a second thought when he had thought Lance had had nightmares. How completely calmly he spoke to Lance as if it was second nature. And then, Lance hugged him back, and they stayed like that for a while, or for a long time or a short time, Lance couldn’t tell, because Keith was pressed against his chest as the ache dulled significantly.

Lance hugged him tighter, circling one of his hands around the wrist of the other to hold Keith closer, to feel more of him, almost trying to hug him into his heart.

Keith moved against Lance’s shoulder, his breath hot against his neck. Lance shuddered before he could suppress it. Then Keith moved his head from Lance’s neck until he was looking at him, silent and somber, something heavy and warm settling between them, and Lance thought, _he’s so pretty._

Lance held his breath, and he waited. For what exactly he didn’t know, but Keith was looking at him with a fierce intensity, a flicker of uncertainty. Then he looked down at Lance’s mouth, and he moved forwards until their lips met.

Lance was so shocked at first, he stayed rigid, his body uncomprehending what was happening. Then, his brain kicked his body into reaction, as if to say _this is what you wanted, jackass, don’t ruin it!_

He melted against Keith, his hands sliding across Keith’s back, searching, _yearning_ for more, as their kiss grew quick and desperate. Lance trailed his hands from Keith’s shoulder blades to the hem of his shirt to slide his fingers against his smooth skin.

Keith moved his hands from Lance’s waist to his collarbones, then down to his chest, further down, down, down until—

Lance’s breath hitched, but Keith gave him no space to recover, deepening the kiss unforgivingly, mercilessly. It was a wonder Lance didn’t fall to his knees right there. He suspected it was mostly Keith holding him up, keeping him steady, as he usually did in a more metaphoric way. His body was shaking with shock after shock from all of Keith’s touches.

They kept it like this, the kiss bearing so much unsaid, built up frustrations and want from the last couple of months, expressed in a series of touches, of skin against skin.

Then Keith pulled away, though not much, his breath hot against Lance’s mouth. He felt dazed, elated, euphoric. His head was spinning a mile a minute, and it took all of his energy to not kiss Keith again. He didn’t even know Keith could _kiss_ like that, had never imagined—

This was so much better than any of Lance’s imaginations.

Keith was as breathless as Lance felt, gazing at him with so much satisfaction and fondness and even a little surprise. Keith’s arm was now trapping Lance against the wall of the hallway, but Lance didn’t mind. He could stay here and kiss Keith forever. He couldn’t help the grin forming on his lips, or the laugh bubbling from his chest to his throat and then out into the hallway.

Keith smiled a little, too, at first, and then joined Lance in a series of sputters, and that was so _adorable_ , even his laugh was half-serious.

Lance slid his hands against Keith’s bare back a little upwards. Never in Lance’s wildest dreams did he think it would ever come _true_. He had thought all of his imaginations involving Keith were purely fiction, kept tucked in at the little corner of Lance’s heart, never leaving, never telling a soul. His 3 a.m. secret.

But now, he knew. He knew what it felt like to touch Keith’s bare skin, he knew what Keith’s mouth felt like against his, what he tasted like— and now that he knew, he didn’t think he could ever stop wanting it. If he thought it was bad before, how was it going to be now that he had kissed Keith passionately in the dark of a hallway, in a flying castle, in _space_.

Lance let a small giggle escape his mouth, and then Keith was moving in again, slowly, this time, carefully. The kiss felt as such. It was sweeter, less desperate, more thoughtful. Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck, while Keith circled his hands around Lance’s waist again.

They hadn’t uttered a word, but there was no need. Lance knew. And Keith, Keith finally knew, after _months_. And Lance didn’t want it any other way.

This time when they broke apart, Lance tugged Keith gently down the hallway he came, and towards his room. They held hands all the way, and still were, as Lance’s bedroom door slid shut, and he tugged Keith to his bed.

Lance gave Keith a slow, deep kiss as they settled on the mattress, leaning down to lie on the pillows. Lance didn’t have to imagine what Keith’s hand felt like in his hair anymore, as they slid through his fingers like sand on the beach. He didn’t have to imagine what it felt like as Lance’s hands settled yet again against the bare skin of Keith’s back, and he didn’t have to imagine what it felt like resting his head on Keith’s chest as sleep was slowly ebbing him away.

Yeah. This was definitely better than his imagination.


End file.
